Ex Assassin
by Niteshayde
Summary: Zo'or actually hires an assassin to have Da'an killed... but the assassin, Charlotte Tilner, decides at the last possible moment not to kill him. This causes, shall we say, complications.
1. Killer Queen

**A/N:** No-o-o, this _isn't_ a songfic. It's actually going to be a series -- a trilogy, maybe? -- that starts off each chapter with a lyric to a song that kinda fits. I'm falling out of my infatuation of songfics, thank the Holy Cow. ^^; I've figured out most fic ideas don't need a song tied in with them: my "One Kiss From You" story would've worked just as well as a regular fic, ditto for my other one. And yes, I know I've switched writing interests yet again (from X-Men: Evolution to Digimon to Earth: Final Conflict -- oh, and read my Good Omens fic if you like C/A slash ^^), but I'll probably be writing for pretty much anything that catches my fancy, now. You know, instead of just choosing a category and sticking with it... yeah. Riight. *nods* Well, I'm pretty much blathering for no reason now, so I leave you all with these words: Review if you like the fic and/or have constructive criticism ("c'mon! I can take it!"), but don't flame me or I'll have to sic the Resistance on you. ^^ I'll do it, too!   
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone or anything except Charlotte and her friend Jymnis, their Artificially Intelligent System (or A.I.S, pronounced "ice")... and the fic itself, of course. I'm only writing this 'cos I think Da'an needs a girlfriend... and yes, I _know_ Da'an's played by a woman. I just think he's more of a male of the species... but since Taelons all refer to each-other as "he" that's a kind of a given.   
**Musings:** Aren't there any female Taelons? And why am I going off on this irrelevant tangent?   
**Answers:** No one knows for sure (dun _dun DUN_) except the Taelons. And 'cos it'd make a good challenge, that's why. So...   
**Challenge:** I challenge you to write a fic introducing a _female_ Taelon, and solve the mystery about why none have come to Earth (or at least weren't introduced on the show)!   
**A/N Cont:** Okay, I'm done with irrelevancy, I promise. I'll just say that, when I wanted to give Da'an a girlfriend, I also wanted her to be a kind of person you wouldn't expect to connect well with him... but you had to like her, too. So I came up with Charlotte. I think she works rather well, don't you? ... All right, I'll shut up and give you the fic now. Read on!   


* * *

_She's a Killer Queen   
Gunpowder, gelatine   
Dynamite with a laser beam   
Guaranteed to blow your mind   
Anytime..._   
-Queen 

  
  
"You wanted to see me, Zo'or?"   
The Companion looked up, smiling an unnerving smile, like the ones given by content cats to local mice: _"I'm not hungry now,"_ it said. _"I know where you live... where you work... where you play... but I don't need you dead yet, so you may live a while longer."_ It was, in short, a smile that made even Sandoval, Zo'or's closest assistant, more than a little nervous. After all, Sandoval knew better than anybody that Zo'or looked down on the human race. In fact, it was seeming more and more like Zo'or _hated_ humans.   
"Agent Sandoval," he said. "I want you to contact someone for me. I have heard... impressive things about him. His name is Tilner. Tell him to be here at 4:00."   
Sandoval was about to nod his assent, but for some reason he hesitated. It was as if an alarm had gone off in his head, though he couldn't think of any reason why it should. A sixth sense was wanting him to ask... "May I ask why you wish to contact this Tilner?"   
Zo'or's smile became more unpleasant. "You did. But you may not have an answer as of yet. I think it would be better if only _I_ know what I have planned, for the time being." Then he, too, hesitated, appearing to think of something. "However. If he asks why I wish to speak to him, tell him it has to do with his line of work, and that I am willing to pay generously for his assistance."   
Still unnerved for some reason, Sandoval nonetheless bowed his head and walked out to comply. 

Jymnis Stronsan leaned back in her chair, balancing precariously on two legs. "You're too hard on yourself, Char. The rosary's fine; you don't need to measure the distance to either side of the hole."   
Charlotte Tilner looked up, grinning. "I need to be able to hit something _exactly,_ Jym. Looks like I was off to the left a little. Overcompensation for being right-handed, I imagine."   
"So you didn't get it right between the eyes. That's not what I'd be aiming for, anyway," Jymnis added with a mischievous smirk.   
"I bet it's not! but I need to shoot to kill, not, ah, _incapacitate._ Render the guy dead, not sterile. Besides, you can't aim there for a woman."   
"Fair enough. Look, you want to say 'hi' to A.I.S. before we head out? You know how touchy he can get."   
"Yeah, sure--" Charlotte was cut off as her cell phone started playing "Bohemian Rhapsody." She winced. "Ugh. Sorry, Jym, but it's Queen, so it's gotta be a job call."   
Jymnis sighed theatrically. "Oh, well. You gotta take it. Catch up with me at the theater if you can, okay?"   
"'Kay," Charlotte replied absently. She pressed the TALK button as her friend walked out. "Hello, Charlotte Tilner here."   
"Miss Tilner, I'm agent Sandoval. I'm calling on behalf of the Companion diplomat, Zo'or." Charlotte perked up at that... then winced as Sandoval continued: "May I speak to your father, please?"   
"My father's dead," Charlotte replied. **Ha -- he must think the assassin's gotta be a guy.**   
"Oh." Pause. "I apologize. Then may I speak to your brother? It's about his business."   
Charlotte decided to humor the guy; he was obviously a lackey. "My brother's not here right now, but I know all about his business. Can I take a message?"   
Another pause. Then Sandoval sighed. "Tell him that Zo'or needs his assistance, and is willing to pay generously for it."   
Charlotte grinned. "Generously, huh? Well, I'll be sure to tell Rick you stopped by." Actually, her brother's name _was_ Rick -- only Rick was about two years old. Charlotte had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing. "When should he expect a call from Zo'or?"   
"Actually, Zo'or requested that he be at the Embassy at 4:00 today."   
Charlotte's grin faltered. From Newcastle-upon-Tyne to the American Embassy in -- she checked the clock -- a little over two hours? Then the grin was back, in spades.   
"Well, then," she said cheerfully. "I'd better go so I can find him. He'll need to catch the next flight out if he's going to get there in time." Without waiting for a response, she hung up.   
**Great Moments In History: the first assassin hired by a Taelon diplomat. Impressive!**   
No matter what she had to do, she'd make that appointment. 

Charlotte stepped into the Embassy, in black jeans and a black blouse. Besides that, she didn't look at all out of place, and not only that: she walked like she not only belonged there, but actually owned the place -- and, as she'd learned after almost five years of experience, that made a _big_ difference.   
She went up the elevator humming "Daydream Believer" under her breath. Given the fact that she was going to get instructions for an assassination, it perhaps wasn't the most appropriate of tunes, but she liked dark humor. Besides, she was always cheerful when faced with the prospect of generous pay -- and who wasn't?   
She stepped into Zo'or's office, prepared for surprise and possibly anger. She had been fired before when the people who hired her found out she was female... or when they realized she was only twenty-two... but to her surprise, Zo'or didn't even seem surprised. If he was, he certainly didn't show it, except for a short hesitation before he greeted her.   
"Miss Tilner. I am pleased to meet you." He nodded his head, but didn't hold out a hand. That was expected: Charlotte knew that Zo'or was against humans (though she didn't know to what degree). She wouldn't have been impressed if he'd tried being friendly. She still wasn't.   
"Shall we cut to the chase, Mr. Zo'or?" she asked. It was always helpful to be seen as take-charge and take-no-shit... but she didn't want to lose the job, and throwing in a 'Mr.' sure wouldn't hurt.   
Zo'or looked at her appraisingly, giving her a slight, I'll-remember-your-impoliteness smile. Something in his eyes made her shiver, and she realized with a start that the Companion diplomat was actually insane.   
**Not my job to analyze the guy's mental health,** part of her said. **I'm getting paid either way, so just forget it. Anyone hiring an assassin can't be completely sane.**   
**Yeah,** another part said, **but this guy's crazier than _I_ am!**   
"I wish to hire you. I need someone... terminated."   
Charlotte nodded. She'd expected that; most of the people who hired her didn't like the words 'murder' or even 'kill' -- and most of them didn't seem to _know_ the word 'exhume.' "Of course. But I'm going to need specifics: person's name, where they live, what they do, anything else you might find important for me to know."   
"Of course," Zo'or echoed. "As for where he lives and what he does, that is quite simple: he is here in the Embassy. Another Companion. His name is Da'an."   
Charlotte started, but only slightly. A job was a job... but killing a Taelon? That was impossible... wasn't it? "How do I kill a Companion?" she asked aloud.   
Zo'or narrowed his eyes, her reply apparently meeting his approval. "You shoot him with _this,"_ he replied, handing her a small purple gun. It looked almost... alive, somehow. Charlotte stared down at it, silent. After a few moments, she looked up and smiled.   
"Right. How much am I getting paid?" 

"Tell Auger I'll be there right away, Lili." Liam closed the connection, and went to put the communicator back in his pocket, when someone jostled his elbow on their way past. There was a 'CRACK!' as it hit the ground. A hairline crack appeared on the screen.   
**Damn,** he thought. At least it wasn't irreparable -- or, if it ever came to it, irreplaceable. **Still, people need to be more careful--**   
He bent down to pick it up, but someone beat him to it. He looked up; a youngish lady of about twenty years was holding the communicator out to him, an worried, apologetic smile on her face.   
"Thanks," he said, taking it. She flushed, looking down at the ground.   
"No, don't thank me," she protested in a lilting kind of English accent. "I wasn't watching where I was going, and when I saw I'd made you drop it, I had to come back and see... well, is it broken?" Her smile faltered; she honestly seemed worried about whether or not she'd accidentally broken his communicator.   
"It shouldn't be," he replied, smiling back. "And don't worry, even if it were I could replace it."   
She looked relieved, and her smile grew into an embarrassed grin. "Still, it was pretty rude of me to run into you like that. Can I buy you a drink or anything? There's a pub right over there."   
"Oh, you don't need to do that," he protested, amused. "I wouldn't want to trouble you--"   
"No trouble," she interrupted quite smoothly. "If you're on your way to work, well, maybe we could get together later. But if you have some time now..."   
"I have time," Liam replied. "But I will have to be somewhere soon, and I can't be drunk."   
She looked shocked. "Oh, I don't want to get you _drunk."_ Then the embarrassed grin was back, and she added, "Thing is, neither of us could get even the slightest bit tipsy off the money I have with me. I really don't care if you get a gin or a Shirley Temple cocktail or just a glass of water, but I want to get you _something._ To make up for the inconvenience. What do you say?"   
Liam hesitated. But then he shrugged. "Why not?" he asked. "You're even paying. A free drink and an attractive drinking partner: I can't resist _that."_   
She blushed a little, then quipped, "But since you can't see any attractive partners around here, you'll just have to make due, right?"   
He laughed, pleased for some reason at her quick sense of humor. She seemed to be cheerful now, a _lot_ more than she had been at first. "Right," he agreed teasingly, and she laughed, too. This might turn out to be an interesting day. 

In the bar, the woman's demeanor seemed to change slightly. "Oy, bartender! Two pints!"   
"Of what?" the bartender replied crossly.   
"What can I get for under twenty bucks?"   
"Two pints porter or stout."   
"Porter's fine."   
Liam smiled at her. "You seem to be a professional at this."   
"Yeah, well, my first home's my apartment in London and my second home is a pub. Any pub." She paused. "In case you're wondering, porter's lighter than stout. I hope you don't mind, but I got a guy a stout once and he was generously sick. It seems to be an acquired taste."   
"I don't mind," he reassured her. "By the way, my name's Liam Kincaid."   
Her eyes lit up, and she snapped her fingers. "Oh! I heard of you! You're the bodyguard of... ah, whatshisname. That Companion diplomat for America..."   
"Da'an," he supplied. She grinned.   
"Probably. I thought I recognized you from the news." She looked apologetic again. "I'm not that good at memorizing Taelon names. Maybe it's just 'cos I've never met one firsthand, but they all look pretty much alike to me. Oh, and my name's Charlotte Tilner."   
There was a short silence in which they received their drinks. "You just move here?" he asked finally.   
She shook her head. "No, I'm here on... well, I like to call it a vacation, but I guess it's business. I'm researching the place for a book I'm going to write."   
"You're a writer?"   
"Y-eah, I suppose so. I've got stories in a couple of anthologies -- under a different name, of course. I'm probably going to write as someone else for my book, too. Believe it or not, I don't usually go around knocking into people and inviting them for drinks: I'm usually bloody shy."   
"What kind of stories do you write?" he asked, sipping his porter and making a face. It _was_ terribly sweet. He laughed a little. "Guess this is an acquired taste, too."   
Charlotte shrugged. "I've always liked it. Anyway, I write lots of stuff. Mostly horror, but kind of in a twisted, macabre way." To Liam's amusement, she pronounced macabre 'mahk-AH-bah' instead of, correctly, 'mahk-AHB.' "Stuff about people being haunted by people that haven't even been born yet, where the story ends up being about that time-travel-paradox thing where the universe ends because a guy goes back in time and kills her grandmother. Twisted, freaky stuff it is." She looked quite pleased with herself.   
"Well, good luck with your book," Liam said as he drained the last of his pint, "and thanks for the drink, but I really have to go. I hope I run into you again, though."   
"Not quite so literally, next time," she replied, and waved, laughing, as he walked out.   
**She was nice. A little weird, but sweet.** "Like porter, I guess," he said aloud, and headed toward the Liberation hideout, albeit a bit late. 

"Well. Liam Kincaid, pleased to meet you," Charlotte said to herself. She spun around on the barstool absently, then turned back to the bartender. "Pint of stout, would you? I need another drink."   
"Coming up."   
It may not have seemed to any passerby that she'd learned anything about Liam, but that was a good thing: Liam was in the business of finding out when people were probing him, however lightly, for information. So she hadn't.   
But she _had_ learned a lot about him: how he acted, how he talked, his personality toward ladies (slightly weird ones in particular). Knowing these little things made her chances of succeeding a lot higher... especially knowing that, if you had a good enough lie, he'd believe you completely, asking hardly any questions. _That_ might come in handy. Plus, now he would recongnize her when she showed up at the news conference... and trust she was there to see him, and maybe meet the Companion he was working for...   
The bartender slid her stout over to her, and she drained it in one go. She was in a hurry, after all. She had a place to be later, and she had to get ready.   
**Six-thirty today: news conference about the probe thing that came to life and killed a bunch of people in a top secret satellite area. Taelon representative: Da'an. In audience: Zo'or, Sandoval, Liam, and a bunch of news people. Perfect. Now to come up with an exact plan.**

Charlotte grimaced at the journalists from the elevated area in the back of the news conference room. They were being obnoxious -- wasn't that their job? -- and asking Da'an impatient, repetitious questions... which, to give her target credit, he was deflecting quite well. Someone had already asked him five times if the creature had really been blown up/killed/got rid of/apply varying terms here, and Da'an hadn't lost patience yet.   
**He must have an unlimited supply. I hate journalists -- the bloody bastards.**   
Zo'or kept shooting her looks to get it over with, but it wasn't time yet. The right time would present itself, like it always did.   
Liam suddenly looked back and up, started, and, grinning, waved. She grinned and waved back, then nodded her head toward Da'an -- who'd just very subtly put down one of the reporters (seemed his patience wasn't unlimited after all) -- and mouthed, "Good for him!" Liam nodded and faced front again.   
And... time. It was time.   
Charlotte nonchalantly pulled out the small gun and, very carefully, aimed it. She sighted it, and her finger tightened...   
Then she paused. She couldn't seem to bring herself to pull the trigger, and not just because she didn't really want to be the first person to kill a Taelon. She didn't really know why she couldn't shoot him, but she couldn't.   
**Screw the money,** she thought. **I always say, after a job, that it was my last. So I'll just have been telling the truth last time. God knows I have enough money to live damn comfortably already.**   
The absurdity of it hit her, really whacked her upside the head, for the first time. She was taking people's lives so she could pay the bills, and buy things she didn't really need for a job she definitely didn't want. Quite literally, she was reluctantly killing so she could buy things to help her reluctantly kill better. If it wasn't so horrible, she'd have laughed. _Here_ was the dark humor she loved so much, coming back at her and kicking her in the ass.   
She hadn't wanted to become an assassin, but it was the only thing she was good at. She _had_ wanted to be a writer, like she told Liam, but she had zero talent in that direction... same as every other direction she'd tried. But there had to be something else she was good at -- and she'd find it.   
**I'll just quit now, while I'm ahead, go back to Newcastle-upon-Tyne to live with Jym and help her work on that needy bastard A.I.S.**   
Zo'or was glaring at her and, as she looked over at him, he mouthed "Do it now!"   
She shook her head. No. No, last time really _was_ the last time. He could keep the money, she _did_ want it but she didn't need it, and if he tried to threaten her into doing it anyway he could go to hell.   
All that must have actually translated through the shake of her head, for Zo'or's eyes narrowed further in an even more poisonous glare... then he looked away. Charlotte was relieved... until she saw him pull out a gun of his own, identical to the one he'd given her. She stood, frozen, as he began to aim. For Da'an.   
**Hey, wait. I'm not quitting now just to have some psycho do my old job for me!**   
She immediately dropped the Taelon weapon and reached for her holster, whipping out her good old regular human gun. She didn't want to kill Zo'or, either, much as it would serve him right for planning, then actually attempting to carry out himself, a murder.   
He aimed...   
She aimed...   
And she fired faster.   
There was an explosion from her gun, and a 'BANG!' -- two of them -- as her bullet hit Zo'or's gun and flung it out of his hands onto the linoleum floor.   
All eyes turned to either her or Zo'or. Zo'or looked positively murderous for a second, then he turned to glare at Sandoval, who yelled, "A gun! She has a gun! Grab her!"   
Charlotte stared down at all of them, meeting all of their gazes. Zo'or looked pleased that she, at least, was going down; Sandoval looked panicked and sickened, as if he didn't like what he was doing but was doing it anyway; Liam looked hurt, betrayed, and, above all, pissed; and Da'an, the Companion who's life she'd spared and then saved... well, his expression was startled, but mostly unreadable as he looked around the room.   
Then he looked up, and their eyes met, and she unfroze.   
"Ah, _fuck,"_ she said, and ran. 

* * *

  
**A/N Cont Again:** Yeah, I'm leaving off there. Yeah, I'm evil. #^^# Isn't it great? I think so. I rather like how this turned out, so I'm pretty pleased at the moment. I'm gonna wait for at least 3 reviews before I continue... so if I don't reach my quota, you're gonna be left with this evil little "To Be Continued..." crap ending. So, if you like the fic and wanna find out if Charlotte gets away, what exactly went through that look between her and Da'an, whether Liam with forgive her, and/or how exactly the romance will begin, I'd review if I were you. Or else you'll be left to come up with your own ending. Your choice.   
Oh, and you'll get to meet A.I.S. next chapter! Isn't that special? Believe me, he _is_ a needy bastard... but we all (Charlotte, Jymnis, and I) love him anyway. And he can do cool stuff with other people's electronics! ^^   
As I said, read and review, and I'll give you something _else_ to read and review... a wonderful Death Spiral™, no?   
As the Snooty Frenchman says, "Go away. I don' wanna talk to you no more."   
**~niteshayde**


	2. She

**A/N:** Yeah, I kinda left off at an interesting part, didn't I? ^^; Sorry, but I had to! And I kinda know where this is headed... but not, you know, specifically. I've got a sketchy plot outlined in my head, and I'll be just as interested as you all to see how it turns out in the end. ^^ As it's going, it'll probably end up being four, maybe five parts... Ugh, I hate it when I overshoot my plans -- but at least it means my Well Of Inspiration™ isn't running dry just yet! ^^ Again, read and review, but don't flame me or A.I.S. will do something wonky to your computer. You know he can! (j/k lol)   
**Disclaimer:** I own Charlotte, Jymnis, and A.I.S; I don't own Sandoval, Zo'or, Liam, Lili, or Da'an (duh) (tho' I wouldn't mind owning the latter, heh heh). The fic itself is mine; Earth: Final Conflict is not (double duh). Neither is Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which I mention. So don't sue me, as I disclaim everything I do not own. Plus I have no cash, I'm dead broke, and you'd get squat if you _did_ sue. Happy thoughts, indeed! ^^   
**Challenge:** I should be getting an idea of when the deadline should be, or how I'll announce the winners, any day now... *sigh* I'll keep you updated.   
**A/N Cont:** This introduction isn't _nearly_ as long as the last one, is it? And that's a good thing. So... yeah. I'm done. Read on!   


* * *

_She's figured out all her doubts   
Were someone else's point of   
view   
Waking up this time to smash   
the silence with the brick   
of self control..._   
-Greenday 

  
  
Charlotte got as far as the doors before someone grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her into the wall. She inhaled sharply as her arm hit wrong and was then twisted around behind her back. She couldn't see who'd caught her, but she found out soon enough anyway.   
"You," Liam muttered. "I can't believe you."   
"If you hadn't, Da'an would be dead by now," she muttered back. If he faltered at all, she couldn't see it, and the grip on her arms didn't loosen.   
Then Zo'or spoke up from behind her: "I demand this woman be arrested for the attempted murder of the Companion Da'an," he said calmly... and a little smugly? Yes, she believed so. She growled.   
"If I get carted off, you should too!" she said. "You're a bloody hypocrite is what you are, you would-be murderer. Oy, you reporters, I know you're here _somewhere_ -- you can't resist this kind of thing -- so take a note: ask yourselves why an expert assassin would try to kill a Taelon with a regular _human_ gun that couldn't hurt him anyway, and why Zo'or here had a gun that _can_ kill Taelo--"   
She cried out as Liam was shoved out of the way and Zo'or grabbed her by the neck. "Do not say another word," Zo'or growled, inches from her ear.   
She grinned. "Right! See? Don't like the truth, do you,-- AHHH!" Her arm was twisted harshly, further behind her back than it was supposed to go. There was a 'snap.'   
"Zo'or!" Liam said. "Stop. Right now. She'll be taken to jail, there's no need to attack her." Zo'or hesitated, then let go. Liam grabbed her again, avoiding her now-broken arm.   
"Get a clue, military man," Charlotte said through tears that she couldn't keep from coming. Her arm had been snapped like a twig, after all. "You too, Sandoval, if you're standing here, which I don't doubt. Your Companion friend's fucking insane." No one there made any effort to deny it. Heartened, she continued: "Not all there upstairs. About five beers short of a six-pack. Ready to be asked what color he wants his straightjacket. The hamster that runs in the wheel of his mind's got rabies. Pick you're term, the guy's nuts."   
Several journalists were laughing now, and one was applauding. Charlotte managed a grin -- then started as her cell phone let off a shrill beep. "Oh. My cell. Anyone mind answering that?"   
To her surprise, someone did. To her further shock, when he spoke, it turned out to be Sandoval. "Hello?"   
Pause.   
"Charlotte Tilner is being arrested for attempted murder-- what? Yes, right now. Yes, she is in the process of being arrested."   
Pause.   
"No, you cannot speak to her." The reporters laughed again. Charlotte grinned again; she knew who was on the phone.   
**You journalists who're here are lucky bastards. Your front-page story's about to get about ten times more interesting.**

"Well, why not?"   
Sandoval was getting impatient. "Because she's being arrested." Maybe the guy would hang up now.   
He didn't. "Oh. Well, we'll just have to remedy that situation, then, won't we?"   
Before Sandoval could ask what he meant, the phone let out a high-pitched squeal... which didn't fade, but grew in intensity. He yelled and pushed the phone away from his ear, but by now that wasn't the only source of the sound. _Everything_ that transmitted sound in the building was squealing, and the ceiling lights were getting brighter and brighter. Sandoval put his hands over his ears, and saw everyone else doing the same before he closed his eyes to shut out the light.   
Everyone, that is, except the Tilner woman. She had been laughing, seemingly unphased.   
Then all the lights went out.   
It took a few moments for anyone to realize it, because they all had their eyes closed, but then the squealing suddenly stopped and they opened their eyes again and it was still pitch black.   
"What the _hell?"_ said a reporter.   
The lights came back on after less than a minute, and when they did, Sandoval suddenly realized he wasn't holding the phone anymore. It was gone... Tilner along with it.   
_"Damn,"_ he said. 

"You okay?"   
"Yeah, thanks to you, A.I.S," Charlotte replied. "I'm completely fine, except for the fact my ears're ringing, my arm's broken, and my neck's probably gonna be bruised for weeks."   
"Yeowch. You'd better get back here and get taken care of."   
"You just want me to come home and spend time with you."   
"Damn straight."   
Charlotte laughed. "I swear, A.I.S, you may _sound_ like you're twenty, but sometimes you act like you're three."   
"Yeah, but you love me anyway, huh, Charlotte?"   
"You bailed me out just now, I have no choice in the matter," she said. "Thanks again, by the way. My ass was in the blender back there, and it was about to go 'puree.'"   
"Jesus. Who'd you try killing?"   
"The American Companion diplomat, Da'an. You know that other diplomat guy, Zo'or? He hired me. I swear, he's nuts -- I made a big speech on the matter that the newspapers seemed to appreciate."   
"So how'd you get caught?"   
"I refused to kill the guy. I mean, I've killed too many people already--"   
"Seven isn't that many."   
"It's way too many. _One_ is way to many. So I was aiming the gun and I thought, screw it, I'm done." She grinned. "Zo'or didn't like that. He was gonna shoot Da'an himself, but I shot the gun out of his hand."   
"Way to go!"   
"Yeah, woo, way to go, go me, I drew attention to myself and nearly got arrested. Brilliant, huh?"   
"Absolutely. You did the right thing instead of the practical, profitable thing. Good for you, Charlotte."   
Even though A.I.S. was just an Artificially Intelligent System, the praise made Charlotte feel really good. "Thanks."   
"So you coming home now?" A.I.S. asked eagerly. Charlotte laughed.   
"Yeah, big sister's coming home. There's no reason for me to stay here. Especially since I'm probably wanted by police all over the country and -- ah crap, I just had a thought -- probably in England, too. Damn."   
"You're already wanted over here for killing that Verron guy, remember?"   
"Oh, right. I almost forgot." She sighed. "I'll be catching a flight out as soon as I can... ah. But I've got to do something over here first."   
"What?"   
She told him.   
_"What?_ Why?"   
She grinned ruefully. "You know what? I have no idea. Not one bloody idea whatsoever." 

Da'an sat, deep in thought. What the woman had said rang true: perhaps Zo'or had hired her to kill him. One thing was for certain, she was right in saying that Zo'or was insane. Da'an had noticed that, too. He had always been... unstable... but was he now actually deadly?   
Da'an knew that Zo'or wanted him dead. He had even used that to his advantage, getting Zo'or to agree to his luring the probe to him -- and hiring Liam, who had saved his life several times already, as his protector. At the moment, Liam was standing guard outside, in case the assassin... or Zo'or... came back.   
Da'an closed his eyes to think, for once trying to, if not shut out the Commonality, at least reduce its volume. It wasn't working very well. When he opened his eyes, frustrated, he noticed a piece of paper lying on the floor.   
He hesitated, then walked over and picked it up. He read it once, and his expression didn't change... but he read it a second time, as if he hadn't quite absorbed it the first time. It read, typed:   
**Dear Sir(s) or Madame(s),** ('Sir(s)' being circled in red pen)   
**I must apologize if my performance did not live up to your expectations. For whatever reason, although being hired to do a job, although having agreed to it, I did not carry it out. If you wish to contact me again, call 1-227-658-4953 and ask for Charlotte Tilner. Do not, however, try to track my headquarters down: not only can you not find it, but my assistant Jymnis has made the line impossible to trace as well. I apologize if this seems paranoid, but in my line of work you can never be too careful. I hope my performance proves to be (in your eyes) more satisfactory in any future jobs I may have with you.   
And of course I will always remain,   
Charlotte Tilner**   
That would have been more than surprising enough if that had been all, but it wasn't. At the bottom, there were several extra sentences, written in the same red pen which had circled 'Sir(s)':   
_I meant what I said. Zo'or hired me; he's dangerous. Sandoval, too, probably. I have quit my old "business" of murder (yes, I admit it, murder). Perhaps we should keep in touch, you two and I.   
Oh, and sorry about the deception, Liam. It seemed necessary -- and if you hadn't bought it and I hadn't been there, Zo'or would've shot Da'an himself, and doesn't THAT little piece of irony just kick you in the ass._

Liam looked up, tense, as Da'an's door opened. When the Companion stepped out, he relaxed only slightly.   
"What is it?" he asked.   
"It appears we have gotten mail," Da'an said wryly. He held out a sheet of paper, which Liam took. He skimmed it quickly, then looked up.   
"You believe her?" he asked.   
The Companion hesitated. "I do not know. I believe that Zo'or and Sandoval are dangerous, and it seems that, if she were lying, she would have no reason to send this."   
"How'd she get it to you?"   
"Through the air vent, I believe."   
"Could she still be up there?" Liam mused, then answered himself, "With a broken arm? No. Okay. Okay. Just to be on the safe side, I wouldn't contact her, and I'd stay away from Zo'or and Sandoval."   
Da'an nodded. "I agree. Thank you, Liam." He turned and walked back into his office.   
**There is something going on,** Liam thought, **and I'd like to believe Charlotte, but she lied to me last time... well. I just won't trust the three of them. Like she said, 'in my line of work you can never be too careful.'**   
He went to crumple the paper up... then stopped, thinking. After a moment he folded it carefully and put it in his pocket. 

Charlotte stepped off the plane, walked out of the airport, continued walking a few blocks, then ditched the wig and pulled out the contacts.   
"Ow. Ow," she said. **I hate contacts.**   
"You okay, Char?" someone asked. Charlotte whirled around and came face-to-grinning-face with Jymnis.   
"Jym! I'm fine. Just got a broken arm and a couple of bruises, but other than that I'm better than I have been in a long time."   
"Really? Why?"   
"I quit the thrilling job of killing. 'Murder By Numbers' isn't working for me; never has, never will."   
Charlotte began walking again. Jymnis fell into step beside her. "So I guess you didn't give out your 'so sorry I screwed up, rehire me anyway' letter, huh?"   
Charlotte stopped. "Well, actually... yeah. Kind of."   
Jymnis looked shocked -- nay, scandalized -- by this confession. "Char! To that bastard Zo'or? A.I.S. gave me the down-low, told me he betrayed you and beat you up."   
"No, _not_ to that bastard Zo'or. I can't believe you'd suggest that, Jym." Charlotte smiled, embarrassed. "Actually, I gave it to Liam and Da'an. Told them to keep in touch. I'm hoping they will."   
Again, Charlotte thought of when her eyes had met Da'an's right before everything had gone to hell. A kind of an electric shock had seemed to pass between them, startling her out of her stupid-frozen-thing she'd had going on. Snapping her out of it, getting her to run... but making her go warm first. She groaned as she suddenly realized why she felt drawn to the Companion, even more than to Liam:   
**Aw, crap, I've got another crush. And this one's not even human.**

_Ring._   
"Hello?"   
"Yes, I'd like to speak to Ms. Tilner. I have a job for her, and I'm willing to pay--"   
"I'm sorry," Charlotte interrupted. "I'm retired. No more killing -- at least, none that _I'm_ responsible for."   
"I'll make it worth your--"   
"No."   
"Don't you get it? I'm willing to pay--"   
"Jesus, man!" A.I.S. interrupted, this time. "Can't you people take no for an answer? That's it, we're blocking your calls."   
_Click._   
Charlotte hung up, grinning. "I never thought I'd say this, A.I.S, but thanks for waffling into the phone. I was about to hang up on the guy, but you did it for me."   
"No problem," he replied. "And I was telling the truth: this phone now blocks calls from that number."   
Charlotte laughed. _"Great._ You're better than an Ignore button in a chat room."   
"Thanks. I think."   
"More annoying, though."   
"Now, I'm taking _that_ as a compliment."   
Jymnis shook her head. "Come on, children, let's all get along." Charlotte glared at her, then whacked her upside the head with the throw pillow.   
The place which used to house Charlotte Tilner, Professional Assassin (which always made her think 'Buffy Summers, Vampire Slayer') was basically a cross between a storm cellar, a fallout shelter, and a swanky apartment. There were two bedrooms, a bathroom, a rec room, and a kitchen. It was all located about forty feet underground, under an abandoned storage shed in the middle of the woods. The storage shed had been transformed, via Jymnis's electronic brilliance, into an elevator -- one that was nearly impossible to find.   
It was furnished with nice stuff, and they didn't really need anything else besides food. As for that, Charlotte had enough in her safe (under her floor) to keep them comfortable for a while, until she found another job.   
She didn't need to be an assassin anymore, for which she was unbelievably glad. And she didn't really need Da'an and/or Liam to contact her... but she kept hoping they would, anyway.   
They hadn't yet, and it had been a month, and she was beginning to think they never would.   
And then they did. 

* * *

  
**A/N Cont Again:** Ha ha ha! What did they say? I'm not telling till next chapter, of course! Ha! *does the Snoopy Dance, which, **disclaimer,** she also does not own* You know, I am taking entirely too much pleasure in being evil. ^^ Again, the same rule still stands: no continuation till 3 more reviews. And the romance really begins next chapter! As far as you know. ^^ I'll tell you these two things, though: 1) You _will_ get to see how they contact her next chapter, and 2) I finally know pretty much where, exactly, the hell I'm going with this thing! Hooray! *masses say hooray*   
Next chapter I'm gonna include Jymnis and A.I.S. even more... Isn't A.I.S. great? I like him better than I like Jymnis, which is something I didn't expect...   
If you read and review, the Death Spiral™ shall continue... and I'm pretty sure that's a good thing, though it doesn't sound it.   
As Dave Barry said, "Have a question for Mr. Language Person? Of course you do."   
**~niteshayde**


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